Chains of Madness
by The Illusionist's Wings04
Summary: What if the battle with Mosquito had gone differently? What if Soul had just treaded TO far through the door of his soul?


** Hope you like this! This is if our heros hadn't come out of the battle with Mosquito…sanely. It's not my best work, but it's been sitting in my documents folder since Fourth of July.**

_When you are young, there is a time you believe you are unbeatable._

_Invincible. Unconquerable. Indestructible._

_Supreme._

_But then you grow. You blossom, and you turn around as you awake to face a new day._

_Only to realize that behind that curtain of assurance, there is reality, and with reality comes an awakening that you can never fall back asleep from._

_With life comes trials, and in the end, you may not come out on top._

It had been going well at first. Mosquito, though still very much alive, was slowly weakening from the young meisters' and their weapon's attacks. The group of seven felt surer of themselves than ever. Of course, in the end, Maka was the first to realize the dire consequences of the path they had all chosen, and that they were in for a very, _very_ rude awakening, but that later in the fight.

Soul's song thrummed through the souls of each fighter, filling them with the power he had gained from the madness. With the highs and lows the instrument played, with each ping of the piano, power was centered on each fighting pair, giving them more control than they had ever handled, ever gained. Unfortunately for these children, they had never felt the taste of power this strong, and it slowly turned into a sort of drug. A fatal drug that would only last so long before dropping.

First, it was Black Star and his weapon, Tsubaki. It's no wonder that nobody noticed the effects it had on this boy before it was too late. He had always had such confidence in himself that, on the outside, it was easy to overlook the change in his eyes; a glint that had only existed when the Star Clan still lived throughout the mountains and villages. And with Tsubaki, well, she was always a little afraid (though in the present situation, it was quite smart of her); this addictive power sensed the hesitation, and before she could blink, Tsubaki was caught up in the glory of it all. Imagine, level headed Tsubaki, caught up in the rush of it all.

Then, it was Death the Kid, with his trusty weapons, Patty and Liz. He already had much power, being Shinigami's son, so it just felt like he had reached another level of it all. Maybe, in the confusion of the fight, he lost the dark trail on this energy. For Liz, it was a freedom she'd never felt. She loved her sister dearly, but she felt like with this newfound, she could be freed slightly from taking care of her little sister so much. Patty, let's face it, she did have a different outlook on life and all that energy just gave an extra kick to it. Of all, she was the safest from this dark power that was consuming the group, simply because of how happy she felt about life in its entire.

And last of all, little Maka; a sort of signal tower, sending out the waves of power through each soul resonance. Unknowing that when Soul excepted the power of the black blood, he could only hold the madness back for a short period of time. Now, without her knowing, the madness crept along each chain, taking over the under protected minds of the fighters.

The black was closing in. Shadows over took an innocence world once filled with light and new possibilities, leading the children into insanity. One by one, the demon picked off what may just be the most powerful meisters and weapons that had ever walked the halls of the DWMA. And Maka stood and watched with a crazy grin on her face, breathing in air crackling with new, raw power.

Deep within the depths of a lake, her soul fought the currents in the deep red light. It flickered for a moment, its strength faltered; that's all that was needed. Red light flashed , and the once pure soul of brave Maka, one star meister, best friend of Soul and the others, was overtaken.

Soul cackled, and his fingers pounded down on the glossy black piano; it emanated a horrible tune of madness, which to the newly formed kishins, sounded beautiful . The walls, the piano, the floor, all dripped with rich, dark red blood; the pictures of his friends and him melted off their chains, pooling in pathetic puddles on the wood floor. And the demon chuckled, twirling a key hanging on a long black ribbon around his skeletal fingers.


End file.
